Rhiannon Reborn: A Tale of West Wing Witchery
by Gothenheim.J
Summary: wiccan fiction mixxed with one of my favorite tv shows please keep an open mind read and review


**Rhiannon Reborn: A Tale of West Wing Witchery**  
_Disclaimer: All characters in this story are owned by their respective owners, of which I am not one, I just borrowed them for the story so don't sue me ok?!?_

It was late night in Washington D.C., rainy and chilly. Most of the staff had gone, and even President Bartlet was settling down for the night, having a scotch on the rocks while sitting by the fireplace.

The hardest-working people in the West Wing were still in their offices, because the United States and the world didn't sleep just because their citizens were sleeping. Domestic and international affairs required 24-hour attention.

Josh Lyman, the Deputy Chief of Staff, scurried down the hall barking orders at various workers in their offices. Sometimes he did this because important work needed to be done. Sometimes, like tonight, he did it to feel useful and important, as he was convinced he somehow wasn't doing enough, wasn't doing his job.

As Josh passed by the office of his assistant, Donna Moss, he didn't notice that Donna's door was closed. She often closed her door to get the most critical work done for him. He knew he had entry whenever he needed or wanted.

Inside her office, Donna knelt next to a pentagram she had drawn on the floor with salt. Josh had seen the salt box on her desk and teased her about it. She had shut him up quick by lying that she was on her period and craved salt. Nothing made Josh back off faster than gross personal details.

Donna chanted, her black, lacy gown flowing around her, rose petals floating as she tossed them gently within the pentagram. Her face glowed in the light of a dozen candles scattered around the room.

"Rhiannon, Welsh witch, come to me, be me," Donna whispered. "Guide me to him. Tell me what I need to do."

Donna had been a Fleetwood Mac fan since childhood and had always wanted to be Rhiannon, after the band's hit song. She called herself Rhiannon when nobody could hear her. She dressed as a witch every Halloween, but as an elegant, beautiful witch with lovely, long gowns. A few years ago she had begun to immerse herself in paganism, finding her comfort in Wiccan and Celtic studies. She had initially pursued the Y Dynion Mwyn form of Welsh witchcraft and had thought about joining a coven, but knew that such activity would inevitably hamper her career. She also knew herself well enough to understand that following a single strict method of practice was not her way. Donna was destined to be a solitary, a coven of one, developing her own style of unusual magick.

Donna chanted a strange mix of Welsh and Latin as she scratched her arm with a bobby pin and squeezed drops of her blood into the pentagram, red rain upon rose petals and the short locks of Josh's hair she had secretly snipped during his many stealth naps in his office chair.

The candles burned down as Donna worked her magick, and the smell began to drift past the closed office door. Josh smelled something burning as he walked past Donna's office for the umpteenth time...waiting...wanting her to open her door. Wanting to see her, wanting to hear her voice. Wanting her to approach him.

The smell was all the reason Josh needed to open the door. What if something was on fire? What if Donna was in danger? He grabbed the knob and swung the door open. His jaw dropped as he saw the candlelit room and the ethereally lovely blonde figure before him, her black, lacy gown draping her figure like elegant curtains framing a bay window with a dramatic sea-cliff view.

"Close the door," Donna said softly.

Josh obeyed. "Donna...what the hell is going on here?"

"No hell about it," Donna said. "It's magick. And it's beautiful, it's natural, it's older than any idea of heaven or hell."

Josh stood rooted to the spot, intrigued but fearful.

"Don't be afraid," Donna said. "It looks scary, but it's not." She motioned her hand toward the pentagram. Josh's eyes widened.

"You...you're a witch?" he sputtered?

"A good witch. A good Welsh witch. Rhiannon reborn. First she is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness," Donna said, smiling.

"Wow," Josh said. "I used to have such a hard-on for Stevie Nicks when I was in junior high school."

"...and who would be her lover?" Donna murmured, embracing Josh.

As they kissed, Donna moved her scratched arm, just enough so that when Josh moved his head to kiss her neck, she dabbed the slightest bit of her blood onto the back of Josh's neck.

"Mine," she whispered, so quietly that Josh never heard her as he kissed her.


End file.
